


Hunger

by Katrina



Series: Katrina's H/C Bingo: Round 11 [17]
Category: Bleach
Genre: Community: hc_bingo, I do like hurting them, Loss of Powers, M/M, No beta we die like mne, it's fun, watch as I start to toss canon out the window more
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-28
Updated: 2020-08-28
Packaged: 2021-03-06 15:13:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26160925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Katrina/pseuds/Katrina
Summary: He wasn’t hungry.It was an unusual situation. He couldn’t remember a time where he simply wasn’t hungry. A soul who was spiritually sensitive, who had a high enough reiryoku, was always hungry. Urahara had always had enough power that he always had a low grade ache from hunger.
Relationships: Kurosaki Ichigo/Urahara Kisuke
Series: Katrina's H/C Bingo: Round 11 [17]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1789174
Comments: 2
Kudos: 104





	Hunger

**Author's Note:**

> I'm so mean to the boys. This is mostly from Urahara's POV, and he is so grumpy. Thank you for the kudos on the last story, they and comments keep me going. If you see any errors, please let me know.

Taking the bowl of stew that Ichigo had put together, Urahara held it in his hands, letting the heat of it soak into his fingers.

He wasn’t hungry.

It was an unusual situation. He couldn’t remember a time where he simply wasn’t hungry. A soul who was spiritually sensitive, who had a high enough reiryoku, was always hungry. Urahara had always had enough power that he always had a low grade ache from hunger.

Oh, he could ignore it, and often did. When he had been in the Rukongai, it was simply a way of life. It set the pattern for the rest of his time. He would eat when reminded, or when he got hungry enough. But Urahara was used to just ignoring hunger pangs unless they became annoying, or someone else poked at him to eat. 

Right now, though, he simply...wasn’t hungry. 

Not really, anyway. Though he did sip at the soup, feeling it settle...something in him. They had found a stream where there was fish on a regular basis. More searching had found a small group of people tucked away in a little valley in what could only be called a farmstead. They didn’t need the food, but it was likely they were only doing the farming because of habit and to enjoy the feeling of eating. The group had been wary of them, but Ichigo’s charm and Urahara’s visible exhaustion seemed to calm them down. 

Urahara had taken the time to teach Ichigo to fish, though Urahara himself did most of it. Which was amusing, as it was becoming very obvious that the younger man had no idea how to live outside a city. But, once Urahara had gotten a fire going, they had cooked fish and a few things they had been able to trade for.

Well, Ichigo had cooked. Urahara was grateful for that. His lover could definitely cook. It was a trait that he could definitely appreciate, as Urahara himself never really found the interest in learning to do so, outside the very basics.

There wasn’t much to trade for in the little farming village, but Ichigo was willing to bring back plants for Urahara to look at. He had survived long enough in the Rukongai to figure out what was and wasn’t poisonous. Which was good, as the blond was feeling rather useless at the moment. 

Urahara was drained. 

He felt burnt out, scorched from the inside out. Which made sense. When he had used that kido-machine mix that he had created, it was… not something he fully expected to survive. Hoped to, yes, but expected, not so much. 

The plan for the device, if they ever used it, was to be powered by at least he and Ichigo combined. They had figured out how to mix their powers with each other, fueling some tricks that Aizen had never expected. 

He was still happy that he had taken to carrying it with him. Just in case. It was worthless now, unfortunately. Urahara had a burn around one arm from where it...imploded. He had no access to any tech he needed to rebuild it. 

Not that he was sure he could use it a second time. 

The wrung out feeling was definitely where he had pulled too heavily on his own powers. The scorched sensation was where he had pulled on Ichigo’s own reiatsu in order to fuel the kido. Everything ached. Urahara was aware that the trip had been rough on Ichigo’s own reserves as well.

Beside him, Ichigo looked exhausted, and he just stared at his own bowl. 

“Eat, Ichigo-san,” encouraged the older man. “Tomorrow, we should see if we can find a larger place.” He nudged his knee against Ichigo’s until the other did so.

The farm that they had found was barely that. Just a few handfuls of people living with each other in an extended family situation. They kept to themselves, and had little to do with places outside their little valley. The most interaction they had was with a local trader. 

But Urahara and Ichigo needed more information. Urahara could make plans easily enough, but he needed to know where they were. And, more importantly, -when- they were. Hopefully they weren’t too far off his theories. It would make planning easier.

Urahara sipped at his soup again, wishing he had an ache for it to soothe. But he ignored that for now. He made sure that Ichigo managed to finish his own supper, and they got the camp settled for the night before curling up back to back. 

Sleep was already hard to get. Urahara's system made things even more difficult.

Everything burned. Urahara felt himself tense, a low sound hissing faintly through his teeth even as he tried to swallow it down. He didn’t want to wake Ichigo, who had finally just gotten to sleep. It would not be kind, not when they both needed the sleep desperately. He was rarely kind, but he did try when he could. Especially for Ichigo.

Inside, where power always seemed to pool in his chest, in his stomach, it ached. He suddenly felt a great deal of empathy for Ichigo's state after the attempt at Final Getsuga Tenshou and its results. He'd been able to repair the damage, but when Aizen escaped afterwards.... That had lead to the situation that they had eventually found themselves in. It was frustrating, and he felt a flutter of anger at those who should have kept a better eye on the madman.

Urahara pulled his thoughts back to the here and now. Worse than the physical results of the kido was how scattered his thoughts were still. When he was moving, had something to focus on, it wasn't bad. Now, when he was trying to sleep, they went all over the place.

Stomach churning, he curled a bit more, shifting so his back was pressed firmly against Ichigo’s. The heat of the other man seemed to soak into his skin. That made the aches in his spine relax a bit. That was good. Feeling the shift of Ichigo's breathing, and how the younger man pressed back against him got a small smile from Urahara, no matter how crappy he felt.

When he was finally able to smooth the aches down, to swallow down the bile that burned the back of his throat, Urahara made himself relax. There was nothing he could do at the moment, and he had to do what he could to recover. That was the only thing he could do. 

He listened to Ichigo breathing. 

Ichigo was alive, not dead at Aizen’s hand. Not broken by the death of his loved ones. That was enough, and he let the sound lull him to sleep.


End file.
